A Well Respected Man
by LC Marks
Summary: AU: Blaine Anderson is the new Creative Director at the Sterling Cooper ad agency. He's living the American dream: A well-paid office job with a wife and kids waiting at home. But when the peculiar Junior Executive, Kurt Hummel, walks into his life, Blaine questions a lot about himself, including the very decisions that brought him to the top.


**Title:** A Well-Respected Man  
**Pairing:** Kurt/Blaine  
**Rating:** PG-13 (Eventually NC-17)  
**Warnings:** Glee/Mad Men crossover. Keep in mind that the setting in the 60's, so please don't think that any sexism/racism/etc reflect my opinions.  
**Summary:**_ AU: Blaine Anderson is the new Creative Director at the Sterling Cooper ad agency. He's living the American dream: A well-paid office job with a wife and kids waiting at home. But when the peculiar Junior Executive, Kurt Hummel, walks into his life, Blaine questions a lot about himself, including the very decisions that brought him to the top. Title from "A Well-Respected Man" by The Kinks._  
**Notes:** Trying this out, because Blaine in a business suit is a story in itself. And hey, even if you don't watch Mad Men, there are very few references to the actual characters from the show, so don't worry. Just enjoy some 60s workplace Klaine.

* * *

Blaine shuffled through the cluttered office, pulling off his dozen-of-a-kind Christian Dior jacket and bumping into nearly everything he passed. He was late, as usual. Not that anyone would have the nerve to say anything, he'd recently been promoted to Creative Director, knocking a couple bastards out of their executive seats and into his control.

"Good morning, Mr. Anderson," his hourglass-bodied secretary greeted him. Her name was Patricia, and he wanted nothing more than to sleep with her, but he was a professional, and a professional doesn't sleep with their secretary.

"Same to you, Patty. What's going on today?" Blaine replies, handing his jacket and hat to her to take care of.

She brings his garments into his unnecessarily swanky office, hanging them up for him. "Your meeting is underway with a representative from Coppertone. A nice man, he goes by Mr. Garrison. That's in Draper's office. Right, and after the meeting, Mr. Hummel hopes to pitch a few ideas for your consideration. He claims he's been working quite hard on them."

Blaine chuckles. "Scratch Hummel's meeting off the schedule. Not gonna happen," he told her, making his way towards Don Draper's office. There was no way he was letting Kurt Hummel, a dashing, but undoubtedly inferior Junior Executive, try to pitch ideas. Blaine would rather not sabotage his chances with Coppertone.

Besides, Kurt was a bachelor, and he was 37 years old. What was that man doing with his life?

* * *

"And there he is!" Blaine was greeted by the sarcastically enthused voice of Donald Draper. "Mr. Garrison, sir, we're pleased to introduce our new Creative Director, the very talented Blaine Anderson."

Blaine extended an arm to the man, presumably in his mid-sixties. He wondered vacantly to himself why such a big business sent out such a geezer to do their business with Sterling Cooper. "Such a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Garrison."

"Likewise," the old man replied. Blaine smiled, his polished teeth shining and wooing the man by the second.

He sat down at the polished mahogany table and lit one of the cigarettes that lied in front of him. He needed it, this meeting was going to be long and unproductive, he could feel it.

Blaine tried to focus on anything but Old Coppertone Rep's pointless presentation. Blaine, unlike his coworkers, was prepared for this job. He already knew their target: young, married women, low to average household salary. He already knew their angle: the darker your sun tan, the more your husband will love you. In fact, Blaine had already thrown around a couple ideas in his head.

His mind floated to his wife at home, who helped him brainstorm the previous night. Gloria Anderson was classically beautiful woman, just four years younger than Blaine. She had thick blonde curls and a body that was just a bit too thin. Blaine wished she'd put on a couple pounds.

They had twin daughters, Mindy and Cynthia, who were nearing their third birthday. Blaine loved them to pieces, but his disappointment was hardly masked when he wasn't given a son. He and Gloria both agreed they weren't done having children, however, so there was still hope.

His daughters weren't identical in the least. Mindy, named after Blaine's deceased grandmother, resembled her mother. She had patches of yellow hair growing in, and her eyes were blue as the sky. Cynthia didn't look like either of them, really. She had Blaine's thick black curls, but other than that, she minus well have been someone else's child. They loved their children nonetheless.

Blaine figured Gloria was probably in the kitchen, fixing a nice lunch for the girls. Blaine assumed Mindy was throwing a fit, as usual. That girl had a lot of spunk, and Blaine was sure that if that attitude never went away, she'd never be able to find a nice man. For weeks now he'd been wanting to suggest therapy for her, but he was afraid it would upset Gloria.

On the thought of his wife, his face reddened. Last night she embarrassed him, in front of their own children. Blaine worked late that evening, and didn't make it home until 10 or 11. Naturally, being the dumb broad that she so unfortunately is, Gloria accused him of cheating.

What particularly pissed him off was that this was the one occasion where he'd actually been working the whole time, and she didn't even believe him. Typical.

Unlike the overwhelming majority of his coworkers, Blaine didn't have a mistress. He loved his wife very much, and yes, for the sake of his job, he hadn't been completely faithful, but he didn't have it in him to carry a relationship with anyone other than his wife.

Blaine subconsciously peaked out the office door, counting all the girls he was sure were willing to sleep with him. None of them interested Blaine, even when he was adamant he could get away with it. It was frustrating, but he was sure one would come around. All of the women at Sterling Cooper were easy on the eyes. Blaine was starting to think it was in their job description.

He geared his attention back to the meeting and squished his cigarette butt into the sterling silver ashtray lying between him and Kurt Hummel. As Blaine already knew, the tray was clean. That was the queerest thing about Hummel – he didn't smoke. And for some reason, he didn't drink, unless it was whiskey.

Blaine figured that's why Kurt was unmarried, his strangeness, that is. It's not like he wasn't a good-looking man, in fact, he was quite fetching. He had good features, Blaine observed. An unusually defined jawline, and the clearest skin Blaine had ever seen. It reminded him of his wife's light, porcelain skin. Neither of them had hopped on the "sunkissed" bandwagon. It was admirable.

Blaine realized what he was doing and shook the thoughts from his head, discreetly scooting his chair farther from Kurt's. He had just compared Mr. Hummel to his wife. Shame rushed through him.

Still, he was curious. He pulled his notepad out of his mostly useless briefcase and sketched a few words, itching to know a bit more about his strange coworker.

If you are still interested in presenting your thoughts for consideration, I will be in my office until lunch.

He passed the note hesitantly and flashed Kurt a quick, polite smile. Kurt beamed at the paper. "Thank you, sir," he whispered back, earning an extraordinarily angry look from Mr. Draper.

* * *

The meeting ended on a good note, not to Blaine's surprise. He knew he had Coppertone in the bag, it was just a matter of flattery. The men celebrated over a few drinks. Just enough to get them feeling proud, but not too much. It was only mid-morning, after all.

Blaine shooed his coworkers out around 11, leaving a good hour to relax before lunch. He kicked his shoes off and lit a cigarette.

He only managed to relax for a brief minute before Patty interrupted him.

"Sir, Mr. Hummel is waiting to see you now," she told him hesitantly. She was afraid of Mr. Anderson's response, considering he'd told her to cancel on Hummel earlier today. She wondered why Mr. Hummel hadn't gotten the memo. She'd have to speak to his secretary.

Blaine let out a sigh of frustration, remembering the arrangments he'd made with Kurt. "Thank you, Patricia. I worked him back into my schedule, don't worry," Blaine said, reading her expression. "Please shut the door after him. Oh, and that dress is very nice. I see you finally took my advice and showed some leg. "

Patty smiled, a wave of relief calming her. She turned around to fulfill the request.

Kurt walked in the room, the door shutting behind him as requested.

Blaine looked up, his eyebrows arched up with impatience. His cigarette dangled from his parted lips.

Kurt coughed, scrambling to open the portfolio tucked under his arm. Blaine noted Kurt's expensive-looking suit, wondering vacantly if it was a knockoff, because there's just no way he could have bought that on a Junior Executive's salary.

"Mr. Anderson, yes, er – I had a couple ideas for the Coppertone pitch, if you're interested," Kurt said anxiously, his intriguingly high voice pulling Blaine's attention, though he had no interest in hearing the ideas.

"I'm sorry, Kurt, I've already finalized my thoughts for the pitch, I appreciate your enthusiasm though. I'll be sure to keep that in mind when future positions open up," Blaine replied, putting out his cigarette and pretending to return to some dummy paperwork.

Kurt put his portfolio down on the couch and rushed over to Blaine's desk. "No, I – I mean, sorry sir, I just wanted to help you brainstorm. For any of our projects. Whatever you need. I'm not interested in a promotion," Kurt proposed desperately. Blaine had a hard time figuring out this man's angle.

"Listen, Kurt Hummel," Blaine started, making sure Kurt knew this wasn't just a dismissal. "I'm sure you're loaded with fresh ideas, as most of the men on your level are. But you work here, and you're pretty high up, I'd say. You're not an intern. There's no need to impress me, or whatever you're trying to do here."

"Well, Mr. Anderson, you are a well-respected man here. It wouldn't hurt to get on your good side," Kurt said, putting an identifiable emphasis on Blaine's name.

"Blaine. Please just call me Blaine. We're coworkers, Kurt," he said, not unkindly. "If you so wish to see into the world of a Senior Partner, I'm sure we would be pleased if you'd join us out for drinks later on. But don't try to pitch anything, Mr. Draper doesn't like when men of your department try to assert their power."

"That sounds reasonable," Kurt said, masking his own excitement.

Blaine smiled, admiring the man's enthusiasm. Kurt frustrated him, still. He couldn't read the tone in his voice. It wasn't like anything he'd seen in Junior Executives; Kurt didn't sound like he was hounding for a promotion, or a new secretary. It seemed very personal.

A thought returned to Blaine's mind.

"Kurt, I hope you don't mind me asking this, but you're a handsome young man, getting older and richer every day. How come you haven't married?"

Kurt looked taken aback by the question, but he kept his calm. "Oh, well I could never be a husband. Too many temptations around here," he replied, that unreadable tone thick and heavy in every word.

Blaine furrowed his brows, his own curiosity getting the best of him. "You know you're not allowed to start any personal relationships with the secretaries. That's very unprofessional," Blaine told him, fully aware that almost every man in the agency was involved with at least one of the Sterling Cooper women. If he could save one J.E. from infidelity, it'd be an accomplishment.

"Oh, well that's alright. I've got no interest in the secretaries."

Blaine cocked an eyebrow. "You're weird," he said, something he usually didn't say, but come on. It was impossible to overlook the temptations that are Sterling Cooper secretaries.

Kurt laughed, high-pitched and skittish. "Don't you have to be weird to get to the top?" he asked redundantly.

"Quite the opposite, actually," Blaine murmured and stood up. "Well it's been nice meeting with you Kurt, and I do hope you decide to join us this evening for drinks. Talk to Patricia about it, she can work you into the plans." He ushered Kurt out the door and shut it behind him, sighing audibly.

He loosened his tie and collapsed onto his couch, confused and undoubtedly flustered by the man. Blaine had a wonderful ability to read people's motives, but he couldn't read Kurt's, and it was killing him. The man had a certain spunk about him. The potential spark Blaine saw in Kurt was surprising. It's not like he'd been anything more than the average J.E. until about five minutes ago.

Maybe bit of quirk was just what they needed in their Senior Executive department, and Kurt had plenty. Now it was just a matter of who to fire.


End file.
